Elephants
by batmanismyhero
Summary: Stupid elephants. He'd give anything just to forget. Rated for harsh language.
1. Nonchalant

Other than humans, elephants are the only mammal that can produce tears. He tried not to think of elephants; it only made it harder to look her in the eye if his started to leak. The glassy, emotional look glistening tears that don't fall conveys a heart, but outright crying showed weakness, or some other over sentimental crap that she obviously wasn't interested in. He figured he'd play it off cool, and maybe if he made it seem that he thought that what they had like it didn't mean anything then maybe she would feel _something_ that might add up to regret…or remorse…(or relief ? No- play it cool) …or anger? At herself? At him?

He told himself to shut up. That it was a misunderstanding, that his ears of a owl didn't hear right, that his eyes of a hawk couldn't see, that what his nose of a wolf _thought _it smelled got lost in translation getting to his brain. That happened sometimes, right? It didn't matter though, because he didn't care, remember?

He opened his mouth, ignoring how dry it was, intending to say something cool, suave or witty like, "That's what _I _was gonna do with you later!" or " Dude, leave a sock on the door when you're with other guys!" or " I know your schedule is packed, babe, but try not to overlap dates" or even a " I can do better than _that"_

All that escaped was a tiny, pathetic, shriveled up, " Oh."

She didn't notice him crush the small gift in his hand (or the claws piercing the palm of his hand which was still enclosed in a tight fist) because she was looking into his eyes like she wasn't sure why he was here at all. Well, shit. No anger, no remorse, no regret, (no relief) …no…emotion. At all. He could always tell, she always had _something _in her eyes, her soul wasn't empty. But right now? - No, its alright, he's just being over dramatic, and his eyesight was getting kind of foggy ( elephants- no) and he-…

"Gar?" Shit. He was right all along. His senses didn't give out. She did (- don't think about her like that, she wouldn't)-…

Damn it! He tired so hard ! He worked for so long! Where did he go wrong? Why wasn't he ever good enough for her. He talked to her, he was always polite to her he looked out for her best interest, he took his time with her, he never pressured her, he protected her, he stood up for her, he was the shoulder to cry on for her, he was a beacon of hope for her, he tried for her, he cried for her, he sacrificed for her, he _trusted_ her.

And it wasn't enough.

He made his jokes more appropriate, he gave her space, he started studying something other than cheat codes and handbooks, he ate stuff other than pizza and tofu, he increased his time at the gym, he calmed the fuck down, he cleaned up his room, he read things more thought provoking than cereal boxes and comic books, he saw more intelligent movies, he played less video games, he conditioned his nose to get used to those nag champa incense things, he grew _up_ for _her_.

And it wasn't enough.

Maybe if he grew his hair out?- No. He needed to talk to someone. She was always the one he came to talk to. She was the one who was there for him the first time. She was the one that always said that it wasn't his fault when someone broke his heart. She was always the one to tell him that the best he can offer any one is himself.

Well fuck that. She didn't want anything to do with the goofball on the surface, and she took advantage of the man on the inside.

It took him _years _to get her to smile, and some pretty boy waltzes in and claims her in a few days and a few charmed words?

" Hey babe, just wanted to let you know I can't make it tonight. Something…came up." He threw in a grin and a wink for good measure, and besides a small catch in his throat, he knew he came across as nonchalant.

He turned back and headed to his room down the hall, ignoring the cliché pain in his chest. When he got there, he tossed the broken box to the soft carpet, letting his mother's necklace tumble free. When his door closed, he leaned against it and slid down to the floor, letting the dams break.

Damn elephants.

A/N: I read something sad earlier so I wanted make other people sad. ( Misery loves company! How else do you explain the emo trend? ) Then I realized I probably wasn't good enough at writing to make other people sad, but I wrote this anyway. ( Bad writing makes _some people sad)._

_Okay, the story: I do love BB/Rae, ( and this totally doesn't seem like something that Raven would do), but…I had to write it and it had to be them. I don't know why I can't write them actually being (happy) together. _

_I forget where I heard the elephant thing, but I swear it was legit. I think. _


	2. She knew

She knew what he was thinking, but she didn't sleep with the guy. It was not her intention to (what, let it go that far? Maybe not.) -She didn't mean for him to see (really? being with some other guy _minutes_ before her first _real _date with Gar?) - But whatever she _meant _to have happened didn't matter, because he obviously saw. From the look on his face, he could have seen her kick a sick puppy half way across the common room while eating beef jerky and wearing leather pants before smacking a similarly clad Terra on the ass, and he would have looked less hurt and confused and…_sickened_…than he did at that moment.

Her stomach turned over awkwardly; she really wanted to take a shower. It wasn't supposed to get that far; a goodbye kiss turned make-out session turned disaster. She was _Raven. _She did _not_ do things like that. She was _not_ supposed to be the one to make him look at her like she was offering him Silkie's head on a stick. His mouth opened, and he looked like he wanted to turn into a mouse, and burrow in the ground for the rest of his life.

"Oh," he let out: shrunken and shattered. ("_Terra…Why?") _

His eyes were glistening. He had a heart, and it was crushed into smithereens (demolished? defunct? cracked? splintered? smashed into oblivion? trampled? devastated? kaput?)

His breathing, she noticed, was measured and controlled as to not hyperventilate. Her breathing had not changed from her normal rhythm, and she knew he was trying not to notice. She knew he was trying to give _her _the benefit of the doubt, how if he saw that she was sorry, even just a little, then she felt _something_ and what they had was still there, worth attention, worth pursuing, worth forgiveness.

She stared at him, blankly, wondering why he was still there, why he hadn't yelled at her, or why he hadn't run away or why he had spat at her in complete _disgust_ yet. Then she got it. He had not let himself believe it was true, he was denying that she would ever do this to him. She knew that if she were to break down in tears, and beg forgiveness, and tell him it was a mistake, and it would not happen again, and that he was all she could ever want or need, then he would forgive her, and take her back in a heartbeat.

And all she wanted to do was leap into his arms and let him know that it was a mistake and that it would never happen again and that he really was all that she could ever want or need.

Because it was, it wouldn't and he was, more than he could ever imagine.

But she didn't. Because letting him take her back would be the worst thing she could do to him. He needed his heart broken, and he needed to heal from it because he needed someone who would never do this to him _ever_.

She hated herself for hurting him, and she wanted- no _needed_ to make sure it would never to him happen again.

"Gar?" She held back a wince at the sound of his hope dying and tried to look as cold as she did when they first met.

She knew it was not fair. She knew he never deserved this kind of heartbreak (not the first time and certainly not the second). He never should have had that horrible look of realization and acceptance on his face. She was the one he always went to, but he really shouldn't depend on her too much, because one day she could hurt him (not like this, something with more fire and brimstone, and blood red eyes). Because this way, he could walk away mad at her, not scared of her, and she would have to worry about anything happening to him (not that she won't worry about him anyway but-). He deserved better than her. …

"Hey babe, just wanted to let you know I can't make it tonight. Something…came up." He threw in a grin and a wink for good measure, and besides a small catch in his throat; he came across as nonchalant.

She almost believed that he did not care for a microsecond, but what everyone always forgot was that she was empathic (she could _feel_ other people's emotions) and nothing had ever felt worse than when he pretended to be someone else. (It just made it hurt her more, the way he didn't want to seem weak in front of her or confront her about what just happened.

He had changed. He did grow up, but not into the man he was supposed to be. He grew into the man he thought she wanted. Well, he had to figure out who he was without her. Who was _she_ to decide what kind of man he would be? He would move on, grow up how _he_ wants to, and move on with his life. Maybe they would meet up in a few years, after the Titans, after all this and maybe start again: without mistakes.

Still, the hardest part was letting him walk away.

He didn't notice her squeeze her eyes shut and take a breath.

Damn elephants.

_AN: Okay, I did write another chapter, I was considering doing this anyway. It originally was from Raven's point of view, but it wasn't the same as this. A teensy more insight as to what actually happened, but that's not what the story was supposed to be about. I hope I did Raven okay; I tried to hint at her problems with her powers without making it all about them. _


End file.
